


Lips Generous and Warm

by yet_intrepid



Series: fool enough to fight [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, M/M, Matt Holt has PTSD, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron)'s Missing Year, Voltron Whump Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_intrepid/pseuds/yet_intrepid
Summary: He scoots a little closer to Matt—not close enough to touch, but enough that it’s a silent offer.(Sad shatt makeouts for Voltron Whump Week.)





	Lips Generous and Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Georgia" by Vance Joy.

“Is it getting colder?” Matt says, finally, and Shiro looks up. So far as he can guess, it’s been a couple hours since the guards took Doc Holt away, and he’s been trying to give Matt some space. So far, they’ve always been reunited, but every time someone’s taken there’s an unspoken terror that it’ll be the last parting.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I think so.” He hadn’t actively noticed it before, but now he realizes his arms are wrapped tight around his knees, and he’s got goosebumps prickling under the long sleeves of the prison spandex. Matt is paler than his normal white, paler even than he’s become since being trapped for weeks in a dimly lit cell.

Shiro bites his lip, considering. Matt can be prickly when he’s upset, and might not appreciate sharing body heat right now. But on the other hand, this could be another one of those experiments—like the foods that made them sick, like the chemical injections, like the sleep deprivation. And if it is, Shiro can’t say for sure when it’ll stop. He doesn’t think the aliens will kill them on purpose, but it only takes one slip-up.

He scoots a little closer to Matt—not close enough to touch, but enough that it’s a silent offer. Matt shrinks away for a moment, but then relaxes against Shiro’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Matt murmurs, as Shiro slips an arm around him.

“Sorry for what?” Shiro asks, quiet too. A shudder runs through him; it’s definitely getting colder.

“Being an ass,” says Matt. He burrows his face in Shiro’s collarbone. “I know this isn’t easy for you, either.”

“Don’t talk like that,” says Shiro. It’s nice, holding Matt, feeling his warmth and his small solidity. “He’s your dad, your family. Of course you’re upset.”

“I mean, yeah,” says Matt. “But like…at least I have my family here, you know? It’s awful, because he gets hurt and I hate it and he tries to pretend he’s okay because he thinks he’s responsible, and all that shit, but like. If I die, he’ll know how it happened, you know? And he takes care of me when I need it, and like, I wanna be here for you, Shiro, because you don’t have anyone else here, and in some ways I’m jealous of you because your family is safe but also—” Matt pauses to gulp in a breath, to nuzzle his nose against Shiro’s shoulder. “Also I’d hate to not have my dad here for me in all this. You know?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says. He brings up his other arm to wrap around Matt’s chest, and Matt clings to it. Shiro can feel the shivers running through him, too.

And then Matt turns his face upwards, so close to Shiro’s. “I wish you’d let me take care of you more,” he whispers. “I wish I were less selfish, better at remembering that you need things.”

“You aren’t selfish,” Shiro argues back. He’s a little overwhelmed at the feeling of Matt’s breath against his cheek, but it’s nice, too. It feels safe. “You’re dealing with a lot. We all mess up.”

“You don’t,” Matt says. He tilts his face closer, lips right up against Shiro’s chin. “You’re perfect.”

Then they’re kissing, tiny soft brushes of cold chapped lips. “No I’m not,” Shiro whispers, as Matt’s mouth moves over his chin. “I’m not, I’m not, I can’t keep you safe, I can’t do anything—”

“You can do this,” Matt says, moving to capture Shiro’s lips again. His hands are clinging to Shiro’s arm, tight, almost bruising. Shiro shivers again.

“It’s not enough,” he insists, while his fingers card through Matt’s hair. “It’s not—you shouldn’t have to help me.”

“Shut up,” says Matt, and Shiro obeys. They pull each other close, closer, chilly noses bumping, cold fingers clinging to slivers of warmth. It’s good, Shiro thinks, as he shuts his eyes and loses himself in the gentle kisses. It’s good: holding each other against the chill, bumping his chattering teeth against Matt’s, breathing unspoken love into each others’ mouths. And even if that love is just one more thing the Galra will rip away from him eventually, he’s glad he has it now.


End file.
